


The Shortest Distance

by Rochelle_Templer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, and Brig frustration, the Doctor being the Doctor yet again, with a dash of humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: The Brigadier calls in the Doctor for a simple repair job. It doesn't take long for him to remember that nothing is simple with the Doctor....





	The Shortest Distance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imnotokaywiththerunning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotokaywiththerunning/gifts).



> This is my gift fic for imnotokaywiththerunning on Tumblr as part of the Classic Who Secret Santa exchange. They had requested the Brig being done with the Doctor's nonsense and thus, this fic came about. 
> 
> This takes place some time after Resurrection of the Daleks.
> 
> I hope they and my readers will enjoy it.

Looking back on it, Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, formally Brigadier and head of UNIT, had never really wanted to retire.

At the time, it had seemed like the sensible thing to do. Doris had been quietly and not truly patiently waiting for years for the day when her husband wouldn’t be so preoccupied with UNIT. For the day when, they could plan something as simple as a picnic or a visit with her sister without worrying about Alistair running off to deal with a sighting of Cybermen or a mysterious craft appearing on the outskirts of London, or the discovery that one of the UN representatives was a shape shifter from the planet Goltal.

And truth be told, the Brigadier began to wonder if it was for the best that he step aside and allow new blood to take his place. Old soldiers leading the troops with the benefit of experience was one thing. Old guard locking the troops into the past was another. After so many years of leading and mentoring, Alistair was no longer able to completely convince himself that personal feeling wasn’t blinding him to the possibility of the latter taking over.

Thus, he officially retired from UNIT and tried teaching maths at Brendon. It wasn’t the same. Not the same at all. But he wasn’t unhappy with it either. Neither was Doris, although things did become strained between them at one point due to that business with Mawdryn playing havoc with his memories. Thankfully, the Doctor had shown up again, albeit it yet another different body, and sorted everything out.

However, time spent romping about with this young, energetic Doctor had rekindled his passion for his old UNIT work. Much to Doris’ dismay.

Fortunately, a compromise was achieved. The Brigadier would remain officially retired, but he would also act as an occasional consultant or observer for UNIT. He would be called in for the truly unusual cases or for situations where no obvious solution presents itself.

It didn’t take long for Alistair to realize that one of the main reasons he was invited back into the UNIT fold was so he could deal with all things related to UNIT’s most famous…or infamous, depending on one’s perspective…scientific advisor, the Doctor.

His current errand had appeared simple enough on the surface. A piece of equipment the Doctor had built during his third incarnation while working for UNIT had broken down. It was a scanner that could detect fluctuations in temporal flow, a handy device for spotting aliens attempting to visit Earth via time travel. Unfortunately, none of the technicians working in UNIT’s research department were able to fix it, so the Brigadier was called in to enlist the Doctor’s assistance.

“You know, it really is quite fascinating, Brigadier. How necessity can be the mother of invention. Yes, I seem to recall that I had originally built this so I could run tests on the TARDIS while I was trying to get it working during my exile here on Earth. Of course, it couldn’t even begin to decipher the sophisticated temporal stabilizers that are on the TARDIS, but with that part of my knowledge being blocked by the Time Lords…well, needs must and all….”

“Yes, Doctor, but can you repair it?”

“Oh that shouldn’t be a problem. Now, let me see…ah yes….”

Alistair sighed and shook his head while the Doctor dropped to his knees and slid along the floor. Earlier that day, he’d used a device the Doctor had left with him to contact the TARDIS and was pleased to get a prompt response a few minutes later. Once again, it was the blond, cricketer chap who had showed up. Polite fellow, that one, if a bit too breathlessly energetic. Consequently, the Brigadier thought that this would be a relatively hassle free chore.

What he hadn’t anticipated was that prompt and polite did not necessarily mean that the Doctor wouldn’t prattle away with near endless streams of scientific jargon while he worked.

Nor did it mean that there wouldn’t be the usual little annoyances that seemed to be common to every version of the Doctor.

“Brigadier…are you sure UNIT really needs this scanner?” the Doctor said, poking his head through a wreath of loose wires.

“Yes, Doctor. The young man from the science department mentioned his superior being insistent about it. As was Colonel Blythe. It’s been labeled ‘absolutely essential’.”

“Because there are much more advanced models out there. In fact, I could easily rig up something better myself with the proper tools and….”

“That’s quite all right, Doctor. We’ll make do with this. No need to bother.”

“Oh, it’s no bother at all. I’ll just need to take this one apart and….”

“That’s just it, Doctor. They only want this exact machine. It seems many of the other gadgets you’ve left behind for UNIT to use were either deemed too impractical to operate or have persistently baffled our best scientists. Whereas this can be operated by even our least scientifically inclined personal. A rarity that has made it indispensable.”

The cheerful smile on the Doctor’s boyish face fell away and was replaced with a distinctly crestfallen look. It was then that Alistair knew that this “simple chore” would be anything but.

“Doctor….”

The Doctor scrambled to his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. “The thing is…it appears some vital components are missing.”

“You mean they’ve worn out and need to be replaced?”

“No, I mean that they’ve been taken out and new ones will have to be built. It’s my fault, I’m afraid. In a manner of speaking.”

The Brigadier narrowed his eyes. “How do you mean, ‘your fault in a manner of speaking’?”

“While I was working on it, I suddenly remembered that my previous self had needed a bit of odirumune ore. And there happened to be just the right amount in this scanner. Mind you, it was for a very good cause that I borrowed it….”

“Borrowed?”

“Yes…in a manner of speaking…anyway, the life support systems on Galias Three had failed. Hundreds of lives were at stake. And I’m sure that, at the time, I had made plans to replace what I had borrowed. But you know how it is, when one thing after another crops up.”

Alistair sighed, but managed to keep any creeping annoyance off his face. “Doctor, you still haven’t explained the problem. If it’s just a matter of needing a spot of this, this…odoromo….”

“Odirumune.”

“Quite. If it’s just a matter of fetching some of that, surely you can just take a trip in your TARDIS and retrieve it.”

“Ah, now there is the problem,” the Doctor said, raising an index finger for emphasis. “You see, the last time I stopped by the only planet in the universe that ever manufactured it, there was a bit of an incident with the ruling family. I won’t bore you with the details….”

“As if that has ever stopped you,” Alistair muttered.

“…but I’m afraid every one of my incarnations, past and future, have been banned from the planet. And there was only a short window in history when odirumune was manufactured. Thus, getting more of it will be quite difficult.”

For a brief second, the Brigadier let his mind wonder at what the Doctor could have possibly done to garner such an extreme reaction from those people, but good sense was enough to stop him from voicing any of the resulting questions.

Those questions disappeared completely once he saw the Doctor’s eyes widen, his hands restlessly fidgeting.

“Unless…there might be something even more suitable than odirumune to replace that part. I just have to….”

The doctor dashed back toward his TARDIS, causing the Brigadier to jump up from his chair.

“Doctor!”

“Don’t worry, Brigadier, I have an idea. I’ll be back shortly.”

The door of the TARDIS slammed shut and a few seconds later, it dematerialized away, leaving Alistair to stare at an empty space in the corner of the laboratory.

He let out a frustrated huff and shook his head again.  He had told Blythe that the Doctor had begun his repairs on the scanner that afternoon, and Blythe was expecting an update on the Doctor’s progress that evening.

Well, Blythe always was a fan of fine whiskey and good company. Alistair just hoped that would be enough to distract him this evening when he saw him again.

* * *

 

Unfortunately, “shortly” ended up being two days and several impatient phone calls later.

On the afternoon of that second day, the Brigadier stopped by the laboratory and had settled in with another history tome to wait and see if the Doctor would show up today. He’d only gotten one chapter into his book before the familiar grinding, wheezing noise let him know that his wait was finally over.

Alistair sat his book down onto a countertop beside him, a sharp comment about alacrity already prepared. However, he hadn’t been prepared to see the Doctor to step out, not clad in his usual cricketer outfit, but in a long, loose robe that was royal blue with swirls of gold and appeared to be made of silk and feathers. Completing his new look was a circlet on his head that which had sky blue feathers sticking upwards in all directions.

“I see you were able to obtain your needed components via the nearest fancy dress ball,” the Brigadier said with a smirk.

“Ah yes.” The Doctor stopped in his tracks long enough to snatch the hat from his head and toss it aside. “I am sorry for the delay. There were some complications with the local government that gave me this ore sample. And I’ve been having some trouble with the navigation circuits which makes an exact landing problematic.”

The Doctor rushed over to the scanner with a small box in his hands. Seconds later, Alistair heard more footsteps emerge from the TARDIS.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have changed before landing, Doctor.”

The Brigadier blinked hard as he watched Turlough walk out with a toolbox in one hand. Instead of his usual black school uniform that Alistair had last seen him in, Turlough was wearing a robe that was similar to the Doctor’s except his was an olive green with strands of prismatic thread hanging from it like fringe.

“The composition of this metal is very unstable and degrades swiftly unless it’s regulated by an outside energy source. So we haven’t much time to complete the repairs. Now, hurry and give me that molecular bonder before it decays any further.”

After that, there were almost three hours of quiet work as the Doctor fiddled with the scattered parts and wires from the scanner with only occasional instructions to Turlough for assistance. During that time, Alistair finally started to feel a measure of confidence that this would be a successful job after all. Of course, he didn’t understand the mechanics of what the Doctor was doing, but he did note that there were fewer and fewer loose parts strewn about as time went on.

At this rate, the Doctor would be done by the end of the afternoon. Alistair could finally give Blythe a favorable report. There might even be time for a pleasant dinner with Blythe having a chance to meet UNIT’s mysterious scientific advisor in person, although the Brigadier wasn’t sure if that would do more harm than good.

Less than an hour later, the Doctor got up from the floor. All of the pieces had been put back into the scanner and there was a triumphant look on his face.

“I take it the scanner has been fixed?”

The Doctor beamed at him. “Better than fixed, Brigadier. Improved. It should be far more durable and precise than it ever was before.”

“And you haven’t changed any of the controls, have you? Because those science chaps were quite insistent on that.”

“A rather distressing request from a group of scientists, but no, I haven’t changed anything other than the main power source and its sensors. In fact, it should be even easier to maintain than it was before. Still….”

The Doctor continued to stare at the scanner, his brow furrowing. Meanwhile, a prickle of dread crept down the Brigadier’s spine.

“There’s only one way to know for sure if my modifications are working properly,” the Doctor continued, putting a finger to his chin. Even before the Doctor could say another word, Alistair was certain that he wasn’t going to like what was said next.

“Doctor, if you’re thinking of….”

“Don’t worry, Brigadier, I’m only going to borrow it for a few minutes. Turlough, help me with this.”

Moving far quicker than Alistair had ever remembered seeing, Turlough grabbed a hold of one side of the scanner and shuffled with the Doctor back to the TARDIS. Alistair knew he could try saying something, but it would be useless in the end. Seconds later, he was, once again, staring at an empty space in the lab. This time, he didn’t even have a disassembled scanner to show Blythe when the colonel came by to check in.

Well, Doris said something about making her wonderful roast beef dinner tonight. Blythe might still be persuaded to be understanding.

* * *

 

The next morning, the Brigadier showed up to the laboratory early. Blythe was currently showing a pair of diplomats around the building and was hoping to catch the Doctor before he took off again. The diplomats appeared interested in meeting the Doctor as well, but Alistair wondered whether that was due to genuine curiosity or an attempt to show professional courtesy toward Blythe.

The sight of the TARDIS materializing a few minutes later gave Alistair some hope that Blythe would finally be happy with the outcome of this assignment.

That is, until the Doctor and Turlough stepped out of the TARDIS. They were back in their regular clothes and were pushing the scanner in front of them. However, both of them also had faces and hands that were as blue as the police telephone box they arrived in.

“Alistair, I thought you said this Doctor fellow was an ordinary looking chap like us,” Blythe said, pointing at the two figures shoving the scanner back into place.

“Normally, he is,” the Brigadier replied. “But I’m sure he has an explanation for that…and for why he took off with a piece of UNIT equipment.”

“Yes,” the Doctor said. “Well, actually, the best way to test the scanner was by taking it through the time vortex. And while we were testing it, we ended up taking a slight detour. There was this planet that was going through some violent volcanic activity and the resulting mineral clouds had this peculiar side effect of turning any exposed flesh blue. Interestingly enough, it doesn’t appear to affect hair or clothing. Still, it should fade in a few days.”

The glower on Turlough’s face told Alistair that the Doctor was probably being optimistic, but there was no point in bringing that point up in front of Blythe.

“On the brighter side, I can assure you that the scanner is working perfectly now,” the Doctor said with a wide grin. He then turned to the two diplomats who took a step back from him. “Hello. I’m the Doctor. And don’t worry. This blue tint is completely harmless to humans.”

Blythe made a vague, spluttering sound while the two diplomats stared at the Doctor with a mix of trepidation and concern.

Meanwhile, Alistair simply shook his head once more, pinching the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he should warn Blythe in the future about bringing people around on days when the Doctor was expected to show up.  The company of UNIT’s legendary scientific advisor was definitely an acquired taste.


End file.
